


Rainbow Army

by magneticdice



Series: Fic!February15 [11]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Challenge - Fic!February, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:32:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magneticdice/pseuds/magneticdice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrity/Fan AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this might be the most ridiculous AU i've ever written. *covers face*

“Where are you?” Svetlana's angry voice said through his cell phone. “Show is starting.”

“I'll be home in a minute,” he groaned. He was only a few blocks away from their house. He looked nervously at the time; he was cutting it close.

Mickey parked the car and ran across the street, passed through the gate, then headed up the stairs and through the door.

“Daddy!” his son shouted happily, running to give Mickey a hug. Yevgeny was almost six years old now but he still gave Mickey a hug every single evening when he got home from work. Mickey wondered how much longer that would last, especially in their neighborhood.

“They're not announcing the winners until the end,” Yevgeny told him with a serious face. “Come sit. It just started.”

He grabbed Mickey's hand and dragged him to the couch, forcing him to sit down on the side opposite Svetlana, before climbing onto the seat himself so that he was sitting between his parents.

The familiar tune began playing and Yevgeny nodded his head from side to side while he sang along.

_Fighting crime, one day at a time._  
_At the first sign of upheaval,_  
_They're out and stopping evil._  
_Master Midnight can’t win the fight...  
_ _Rainbow Army! Rainbow Army!_

Mickey fought not to roll his eyes as the soldiers flashed across the screen, each in a different shade of rainbow-colored camouflage. It was like a bad remake of the Power Rangers, minus the morphing. He and Svetlana dutifully sat through the episode, watching Yevgeny cheer and gasp and laugh accordingly.

At the end of the show, they cut to a live lottery drawing where one lucky kid would win a visit from the Rainbow Army cast. Mickey and Svetlana had sent in over a hundred postcards each to enter their son in the contest, and it was all finally coming to a head.

“I’m gonna have the best birthday party _ever_ ,” Yevgeny said, holding his fingers crossed. Mickey and Svetlana exchanged a look before giving their son encouraging smiles.

All of the main characters were there to do the grand prize drawing: Captain Charlie Crimson (the red one), Officer Butters (the yellow one), General Gallagher (the green one, and also Yevgeny’s favorite), Sergeant Steve Sapphire (the blue one) and Private Peterson (the purple one).

As the one in charge of the group, General Gallagher reached a hand into the giant bag of postcards to pick the winner, but just as he was about to read the name, the show’s villain, Master Midnight, jumped out with his evil ninjas and attacked the Rainbow Army. Mickey almost laughed as his son gasped and held on to his arm. A fight unfolded on the screen, with the Rainbow Army inevitably overcoming the bad guy and his henchmen.

Finally, General Gallagher retrieved the chosen entry and began reading it. “And the winner is… Allen O'Reilly in Akron, Ohio!” There were balloons and confetti and lots of cheering, but all Mickey noticed was the single tear that rolled down his son’s defeated face.

“No one like Orange Head anyway,” Svetlana told him reassuringly, putting a hand on Yevgeny’s shoulder. The boy wiped at his eyes and pretended to not be upset, even brushing off his mom’s hand.

“I’m fine,” he told them, voice quivering. “Can I go to bed now?”

“You not eat dinner,” Svetlana complained.

“M’not hungry,” Yevgeny told her defiantly. He looked at Mickey for approval and the brunet nodded to his son.

They watched him run to his bedroom and close the door. “This is not good,” Svetlana said, shaking her head. “He will not enjoy birthday party.”

Mickey bit his lip while glaring at his wife, although he used the term loosely since they were only together out of convenience… and the kid, of course.

“Well what the fuck do you want me to do about it?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “You come up with idea and fix problem,” she told him before getting up and going back to the kitchen, where the smell of some Russian dish on the stove was coming from. “Dinner ready in ten minutes. Go wash your dirty man body,” she ordered, pointing to the bathroom with her mixing spoon.

That night, Mickey went online and did some research. Maybe he couldn’t get the entire Rainbow Army to come to Yevgeny’s sixth birthday party, but he could at least try to get _one_ of them to come. How expensive could it be?

He was confused by some of the links that came up when he first began looking on Google. Apparently a lot of people were really into some weird-ass Rainbow Army imitation porn that he accidentally discovered in his search. He shook his head at the idea of people perverting the kids’ show. Was nothing sacred? Granted, the only way Mickey survived watching the hour-long show with Yevy each weekday was by having the ginger-haired General to look at, but that didn’t make it okay for people to cast look-alikes to play him in movies like “Chain-Blow Army” and “The Green General Gets Creamed”.

Mickey eventually found the information he’d been looking for. He sent email after email to the show’s PR department, the fansite coordinator, even the actor’s agent ‒ basically, anyone he could think of that might have some connection with General Gallagher or the actor who played him.

Days went by with no response, and Mickey was getting anxious as his son’s birthday slowly crept closer. Yevgeny had been moping around the house since the contest had ended. There were only so many death-glares he could stomach from his wife. He had no choice but to dig deeper, and learned that Gallagher was originally from Chicago ‒ from the South Side, as it turned out. He looked through the phone book and found that there weren’t that many Gallaghers still living there. On the off chance that any of them were actually related to the Ian Gallagher from the show, Mickey decided to check them out.

The fifth name down on his list was a Sammi Gallagher. The woman who answered the phone said she knew Ian but wasn’t an actual relative. She told Mickey that none of her brothers and sisters kept in touch with her anymore ‒ apparently family drama wasn’t just reserved for the Milkovich family ‒ but that her son still called his Uncle Carl in prison once in a while. She told Mickey that if anyone would know more about how to contact Ian, his brother Carl would be the best bet.

It just so happened that Carl Gallagher was in the same prison as Mickey’s brother Iggy. All it took was a couple of cartons of cigarettes to get the guy to agree to a meeting. He told Mickey that most of their family had moved out of Canaryville, but that Ian was living on the North Side now. An extra hundred bucks in his commissary account got Mickey Ian’s phone number and address.

Mickey decided to call Gallagher first. He left a few (okay, maybe seven) voicemails, saying he was interested in hiring him to come to his son’s birthday party dressed as the General, but when he didn’t get a call back by the end of the following day, he decided to go and pay Gallagher a visit. He wasn’t exactly that far away, after all.

Mickey pulled up to the address Carl had given him, trying not to let the house’s outward appearance get to him. It was fucking huge and he felt seriously out of place. The house itself was set very deep into the property, the driveway extending quite a bit before forming a cul de sac in front of the main, colonial-style building.

He took a deep breath before getting out of his shitty car and walking to the front door. He rang the door and waited, half expecting a fucking butler to open the door. The man who opened the door was most definitely _not_ a butler; it was General Gallagher in the flesh.

“Uh, hi,” Mickey said awkwardly when all the redhead did was stare at him, confused. “My name’s Mickey… I called you about the party next week?”

Ian Gallagher groaned in annoyance. “You’re the one who’s left all those messages harassing me?” he accused before he began closing the door.

“Ay, wait a sec,” Mickey said, holding the door open with one hand. Gallagher attempted to push it shut but looked surprised at the firm, effortless resistance from Mickey… Apparently the brunet was stronger than he looked, and Mickey tried not to look too smug about that fact.

“It’s Mickey, you said?”

Mickey nodded.

“Great. Just making sure I have all the info I need when I call the police,” he muttered, pushing the door harder.

Mickey scowled but held his ground. “Hey man, there’s no need to get the cops involved. I’m willing to pay good money for you to come to the party. It’s a valid business transaction.”

Gallagher stopped pushing back, probably realizing that Mickey wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. “How the hell did you get my number?” he hissed, ignoring Mickey proposition. “And my _address_?”

Mickey relaxed his hand off the door but bit his lip, debating whether or not he should tell the truth or lie about bribing Gallagher’s brother. He settled on a bit of both: “My brother Iggy’s in prison with your little brother Carl. They’re friends, so I asked him for a favor.”

“That’s a lot of fucking work for a RainBro,” Ian huffed, crossing his arms. “But I’m gonna tell you the same thing I tell all of you creepy-ass weirdos: I don’t give a shit how much you’re willing to pay or how much you stalk me. I’m not a fucking hooker and you can take your disgusting army fantasies and shove ‘em up your ass.”

“ _W-what_?” Mickey finally croaked out when he was able to pull his jaw back up from the ground. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and had no idea where to even start. “What _the fuck_ is a _RainBro_?” he asked. It seemed as good a place as any.

“Isn’t that what you freaks call yourselves?”

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” Mickey began, but the gears were turning in his head as he began to realize what all of that porn that had come up in his search was actually about... “My son tried to win the contest to have the whole Army show up at his party, but I guess his mother and I didn’t send enough fucking postcards in. He’s been walking around the house like a depressed zombie for the last two weeks, so I’m doing anything I can to make sure his birthday doesn’t suck ass.”

Gallagher stared at him and Mickey could tell he didn’t believe a word he was hearing. He grunted in annoyance and fished out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He flipped it open and pulled out the picture that he kept there of Yevgeny from Halloween.

Mickey showed him the picture of his son dressed up as General Gallagher. “I don’t know what the hell you think I’m into, but that shit you described ain’t it,” he told him.

He watched the taller man as he reluctantly examined the photo. He noticed him uncross his arms, taking a much more relaxed stance as Mickey’s words sank in.

“But I can see how people might take the name ‘Rainbow Army’ the wrong way,” Mickey teased, and was surprised to hear Gallagher laugh.

The redhead shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Fucking tell me about it,” he said dismally, and Mickey could only imagine how much crap Gallagher had to deal with if he assumed every guy who approached him was ‒ what was it he’d called him? ‒ a RainBro.

The redhead was still shaking his head when he looked back to Mickey and returned the picture of Yevgeny. “So you really have a kid who’s into the show?” he asked.

“Uhuh,” Mickey said with a nod. “Obsessed with it. And you’re his favorite.”

“Well, he has good taste then,” Gallagher said with a grin.

“He’s turning six; he doesn’t know any better,” Mickey grunted.

The redhead took a card out of his back pocket and held it out for Mickey. The brunet raised an eyebrow and looked at it suspiciously. “What’s that?” he asked.

“My card. With my private email address. You can send me all the info about the party… you know: date and time, your kid’s name, whatever else you think I should know.”

Mickey accepted the card and shoved it into his wallet alongside the picture. “So how do we do this? I’m guessing you’ll take cash?”

Gallagher looked panicked. “Oh God, I haven’t done a birthday party in ages. I don’t even know what the going rate is… Can I get back to you?”

Mickey shrugged. “Sure.”

Their conversation was over but Mickey felt weird just saying bye and leaving. “So, uh…”

“Hey, I’m sorry for implying you were some kinda freak,” Ian said to him before he could flounder around for something to say for too long. “You wouldn’t believe the people I’ve met because of this job. And you have a wife and kid… Christ. I’m really sorry.”

Mickey bit his lip, tempted to correct him. Nothing about his situation at home was normal, but years under his father’s watchful eye had made him play up the wife thing to the point where it was second nature to him. Even now that Terry had passed away, he still appreciated having Svetlana as a convenient beard. “S’fine, Gallagher,” he muttered.

“You can call me Ian,” the redhead said. Mickey nodded before turning around and heading back to his car with a smug, accomplished smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey get to know each other a little better... (one more than the other...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will finish this fic soon! for now, here is a bit more. there will be only one more chapter.

He knew the good news would make his son happy, but Mickey had underestimated just _how_ happy Yevgeny would be. In hindsight, he probably should have waited until the following morning to tell him that General Gallagher would be coming to his birthday party, because the kid didn’t relax enough to go to sleep until it was well past midnight.

Mickey was sitting on the couch when Svetlana finally walked out of Yevgeny’s bedroom, carefully closing the creaky door so as not to wake him again. She didn’t say anything to her husband, but her approving nod at Mickey for making their child so happy was clear enough. She adjusted the wrap of her silk robe around her small frame before she quietly walked to her bedroom for the night.

While waiting for the laptop to boot up, Mickey walked to the kitchen and grabbed an extra invitation that Svetlana had magneted to the fridge. He eventually opened up his email and sent Ian the info about the party, not trusting himself to get all of it right; he would probably fuck up the time or something in his haste if he didn’t copy it straight off the invitation.

He didn’t get a reply until the following morning. Ian wrote that he talked to some of the other guys on the show and they told him they usually take $500 per party or $600 if autographs are involved, but that since Mickey lived so close to where he grew up, he’d do it for half price ‒ kind of like a neighborhood discount.

They emailed back and forth and made plans to meet so that Mickey could pay him. He expected that he would have to drive to the North Side again, but Ian surprised him by suggesting they meet at the Alibi Room. Ian said he hadn’t been to that bar in years ‒ not since his dad died ‒ but that all this talk about the South Side was making him feel a bit nostalgic. Mickey didn’t really complain; it meant less travel time for him.

The following night, Mickey headed to the Alibi. He planned on just dropping off the money, but Ian insisted he stay for a drink ‒ his treat. Turning down a free drink went against every fiber of his Milkovich being.

“This place feels so different without my dad passed out drunk on the counter,” Ian told him, bringing a pitcher and two pint-glasses back over to the table he and Mickey were sitting at.

“I know what you mean,” Mickey said as he filled his glass. He had also stopped coming to the Alibi because of his dad, but he didn’t really feel like getting into that with a stranger.

“I’m surprised we never crossed paths when we were kids,” Ian told him with a smile.

“You wouldn’t have liked to know me back then,” Mickey warned him, alluding to the badass he’d been during his teenage years.

“Why’s that?” Ian wondered.

“Pro’ly woulda kicked your ass,” he explained between sips.

“I dunno ‘bout that... I was in Junior ROTC through all of high school,” he reasoned. “I might’a been able to hold my own.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows with interest. “Is that how the whole General Gallagher thing got started?”

“Sort of,” Ian said, looking away quickly. Mickey could see his cheeks redden and caught on to the fact that there was more to Ian’s half-assed answer. He stared intently at the redhead until Ian finally looked back at him and blushed even deeper. “I’m not gonna bore you with the details,” Ian told him.

Mickey sensed that the guy would eventually cave, just like he had with coming to the party. He didn’t even have to say anything to get Ian to start talking. He just continued staring at him silently until he began spilling everything.

“After high school, my family needed cash, so I started bartending and dancing at a club in Boystown. It was good money… but sometimes it wasn’t enough,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on his beer while speaking. “So one day, this old guy approached me… a producer… and I made a video for him. It wasn’t anything serious, but I wore my army fatigues in it, and a month later, someone tracked me down and asked me if I’d be interested in doing the show.”

“Wait a sec,” Mickey said, putting his glass down. “You’re telling me that the porn that came up when I googled ‘General Gallagher’ is real?”

“ _No!_ ” he gasped, then laughed ruefully and covered his face with his hands. “I wasn’t even ‘General Gallagher’ back then. None of those movies that come up on google are mine. I made _one_ short video, that’s it, and after I made it big, I got rid of almost all of the copies.”

“Almost all?” Mickey wondered, raising an eyebrow.

Ian huffed out in frustration. “Well, I tried. But it’s the internet, you know?”

Mickey shrugged, then drained his beer before refilling the glass.

“What about you?” Ian asked, catching him off guard.

“What _about_ me? I haven’t done any pornos, if that’s what you mean,” he grumbled.

Ian rolled his eyes at Mickey. “Come on. You know that’s not what I meant...”

Mickey reluctantly told Ian about himself, omitting the stuff about his dad and Svetlana that he didn’t like to think about and had no reason to share with the redhead. They talked for another hour and a half, drinking two more pitchers between them. The conversation came easily, and Mickey caught himself wondering what it really would have been like knowing someone like Gallagher back in the day.

When they finished the last of the beer, Ian pulled out his phone to check the time. He looked at Mickey guiltily. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. Shouldn’t you be getting home?”

Mickey pulled out his own cell and saw that it was almost midnight. “It’s not that late. Don’t be a fucking baby.”

“I have a show to record tomorrow,” Ian told him, busily tapping away at his phone. When he noticed Mickey watching him, he showed him the screen. “Uber,” he explained. “You want me to order you a ride?”

Mickey shook his head. “Nah, took the L over.”

They went outside and had a couple of cigarettes while Ian waited in front of the Alibi for his ride to come, then said goodnight and parted ways.

Mickey spent the train ride home thinking about what he’d learned about Gallagher. He didn’t want to admit it but he had actually enjoyed drinking and chatting with the guy. It wasn’t like he really had any friends around to chill with. Now that Iggy was incarcerated and his other siblings had moved away, his life only consisted of going to work and spending time with Yevgeny.

Everyone was asleep when he got home. He went to his room, careful not to trip and make noise, though it was _not_ an easy feat considering how buzzed he was. He idly wondered when he’d gotten to be such a fucking lightweight. They’d only had beer, after all... not even any hard liquor.

Mickey lay in bed and really tried to go to sleep, but his curiosity got the better of him. It was already past one when he got up and searched for the laptop. Retrieving it, he went back to his room and opened it up. The keys were covered in what he guessed was chocolate ice cream. Mickey made a mental note to scold Yevgeny about it the following morning as he wiped at the brown dots with a tissue.

When the old computer finally turned on, he searched for the original porno that Ian had mentioned. All that came up were the same videos he had previously ignored. Despite adding more keywords into his search, like “original” or “teenage”, he couldn’t seem to find it. Then a thought popped into his head: Ian had mentioned that he “wasn’t ‘General Gallagher’ back then”. Mickey tried changing the word “General” to “Private” and added Ian’s first name, and to his great satisfaction, only one video showed up in the results.

He hesitated for a moment. If he clicked on the link, he would be invading Ian’s privacy. The guy was doing him a huge favor in coming to his kid’s birthday party, was only charging him half of what he could get, and had just paid for a night’s worth of alcohol for him. Did he really want to cross whatever line he was about to cross?

The answer was yes. He _really_ wanted to see what was in the video. He made sure his headphones were plugged in before he clicked on the link.

The movie got off to a slow start, so Mickey skipped the first few minutes of the intro. From what he could tell, it was the typical military porno plot: Private Gallagher fucked something up and was doing push-ups as punishment. The Sergeant who was standing watch over Ian wasn’t bad-looking by any means. Sure, he was a little old, but not in the my-kids-are-your-age kind of way Mickey had expected.

Things got more interesting when the Sergeant decided to lock the door to his office and make Gallagher remove his shirt. Mickey couldn’t help but focus on the redhead’s sweat-slicked body and the muscles of his back and shoulders as he continued doing the push-ups. The Sergeant eventually fed Gallagher the cheesiest line, ordering him to go down on him, and by then, Mickey’s interest was piqued enough for him to reach into his boxers.

He watched intently as Ian took all of the Sergeant into his mouth at once, which was not a small feat considering the size of the older man’s package. Gallagher went to town, hollowing his cheeks and sucking like his life depended on it. Mickey held a firm grip on his own erection as he stroked himself, imagining how tight and warm Ian’s mouth would be if he sucked Mickey’s dick the way he was doing it in the video.

The Sergeant was barking orders at Gallagher that made Mickey want to laugh, like telling him to “eat it like a good little soldier”, but he fought down the urge and instead concentrated on the task at hand, pun intended. He left himself getting close, his strokes becoming faster with each passing moment. He came just moments before the Sergeant did, finally feeling sated, and was already wiping himself clean with a tissue when the camera panned around to show Ian swallowing down the old guy’s load.

“Good job, Private,” he said, wiping a drop of cum from the corner of the redhead’s mouth and shoving his finger into his mouth to make sure he got every last drop of it.

“Thank you, sir. Anything it takes... I’m passionate about my job, sir,” the Private said, just before the video ended, cutting right on a close-up of the redhead’s flushed face.

Mickey stared at the screen before sighing and shutting the laptop, but was able to fall asleep a few minutes later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hasn't been beta'd and it's late, so I'm not even going to read it over. sorry for any and all mistakes. but otoh, it's finally finished! yay!

Before Mickey knew it, the morning of Yevgeny’s party had arrived. His son was a little ball of excitement, darting in and out of the living room in different outfits, asking his parents which one they thought he would look the best in. He finally settled on his green camouflage pants and General Gallagher t-shirt.

Next, his son wanted him to order pizza for the party instead of letting Svetlana cook for everyone. His wife stared at him sternly because they definitely didn’t have enough money to order food and because she had already started cooking. Yev threw a little tantrum about his party not being cool enough and Mickey tried to telling him to chill, that it wasn’t such a big deal.

That was probably the biggest fucking lie he’d ever told his son. It was a _huge_ fucking deal. Mickey couldn’t even count how many times he’d jerked off to Gallagher’s video in the last week. He was so anxious about seeing Ian again and looking him in the eye that he’d done the same exact thing as his son had just done: he’d tried on all of his best outfits to pick out the one he hoped General Gallagher would like the most. The only difference was that Mickey didn’t have anyone to give him feedback, so he’d ended up just picking the cleanest, most wrinkle-free shirt he had.

Svetlana was in super-woman mode by lunch time, cooking enough food for all the kids in Yevgeny’s class. She got some of the girls from work to come by and help her get the place ready for the party. Svetlana was finishing up the custom, rainbow-colored tank cake when the door opened and the kids trickled in until the house was filled to the brim with children screaming and running around, causing havoc.

The doorbell rang just around the time they had finished eating, and Mickey opened the door to find Ian dressed in his full General Gallagher costume. To say the kids went bonkers would be an understatement. Mickey was worried that a couple of them would pass out from overexcitement, and was relieved that they were fine.

Gallagher told the kids that Yevgeny was his special friend and that he was excited to celebrate his sixth birthday with him. He asked where the cake was, but then, to everyone’s surprise ‒ especially Mickey’s ‒ Master Midnight showed up and told them all that _he_ wanted the cake all to himself. Amid the horrified gasps and “oh no!”s of the kids, General Gallagher and Master Midnight fought until the Rainbow Army leader was victorious. The bad guy fled out the back door and the kids feasted on the birthday cake while cheering and singing the show’s theme song over and over.

It was an amazing party and Yevgeny had a blast. When it was all over, Svetlana even cracked her ice-cold shell and told Mickey that she thought he’d done a good job. The only downside was that Gallagher never broke character and left before Mickey got a chance to talk to him.

Mickey put Yevgeny to bed while Svetlana and the girls cleaned up the destruction caused by the kids, and his son went to sleep with a gigantic smile on his little face. The effort of stalking a celebrity had paid off. Mickey closed the door to Yevgeny’s room carefully and helped clean up by taking the gigantic bags of garbage out. All of the girls from work eventually eft, except Nika, who followed Svetlana into her room.

The night over, Mickey went to his own room and got into bed. Despite everything going unexpectedly well, he felt uneasy. Gallagher had only charged him a couple hundred bucks and that didn’t even include bringing Master Midnight along. He didn’t feel right about it, and he definitely didn’t like that he hadn’t gotten a chance to thank Ian for it. He decided he would go to Ian’s house again in the morning to talk to him and give him some more money.

The following morning, when Svetlana and Nika took Yevgeny to the park, Mickey drove back up to the North Side. He drove down Ian’s unreasonably long driveway and parked in front of his equally unreasonably-sized house. He rang the bell and waited for what seemed like forever. He worried that maybe the redhead wasn’t even home and that he’d driven all the way out for no reason, then started berating himself for not thinking to call beforehand, when the door opened, effectively cutting off his thoughts.

“Mickey?” Ian asked, tired eyes and sloppy hair indicating that he’d been sleeping.

“Yeah, hey,” Mickey told him, smiling rather guiltily. “Sorry for waking you,” he added.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I don’t usually get to sleep in because we film at the studio every morning, but it’s Sunday, so…” he trailed, not really finishing his thought.

“So what you mean is, not only am I a dick for taking advantage of you, but I’m also waking you up on the only day you can sleep late?” Mickey said jokingly.

Ian must have been tired because he looked thoroughly confused. “Huh?” he wondered.

Mickey laughed and took some extra bills out of his wallet. “Here man,” he said, pushing the money towards Ian.

From the look on his face, Mickey could tell his brain was struggling to figure out what the shorter man in front of him was on about

“I know you paid out of your own pocket for your buddy Mr. Midnight or whatever to come,” Mickey explained.

“Master Midnight,” Ian corrected.

“What-the-fuck-ever,” Mickey told him, rolling his eyes. He waved the money in front of the sleepy man. “I don’t need handouts. Take it,” he insisted.

Ian shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, covering a yawn with his hand, then rubbing at his jaw, lightly scratching the short, reddish-brown stubble there.

Mickey scowled. He didn’t need things given to him out of pity. “Listen, Gallagher,” he began, ears warm with anger. “Just because I’m from the South Side doesn’t mean I’m some kind of charity case,” Mickey almost growled.

Ian had the balls to laugh at him. “Mickey, that’s not it at all, really!” he said, smiling genially. “I know it’s a little late, but I haven’t eaten yet. Do you want to come in for some breakfast?” he offered.

It was a pathetic attempt to placate Mickey and unfortunately it only pissed Mickey off more. “I wanna know _why_ , Gallagher,” he demanded. “Why the hell did you go out of your way? What are you getting at?”

“I just wanted to do something nice,” he reasoned, holding his hands open in a show of innocence. “You know, make the kids happy.”

Mickey really looked at the redhead’s face and thought he sounded genuine enough...

“Guess you’re just passionate about your job, huh?” Mickey said, letting his favorite line from Ian’s porno slip out.

The smile slipped from the taller man’s face. “You watched it,” Ian whispered, stating it as a fact.

Mickey chewed on his lip, avoiding eye contact. He had avoided talking to Ian about his sexuality the two previous times they’d met, but the cat was definitely out of the bag now.

“Why…?” Ian wanted to know.

“I was curious,” Mickey confessed, finally meeting Ian’s green, hurt eyes. “I remembered what you said about not being ‘ _General_ Gallagher back then,’ and once I figured that out, it didn’t take long.”

He could see the redhead’s cheeks were starting to match the color of his hair. Mickey had known what he was doing all week was wrong, and all the guilt he had ignored since the first time he watched the porno overwhelmed him now. He felt like he needed to say something to make Ian feel less embarrassed.

“Dude, there’s no reason for you to look at me like that,” he told him. “Teenager or not, you looked great.”

Ian rolled his eyes skeptically, so Mickey continued, “I’m not kidding. It was great! In my top five for sure…”

“It was terrible,” Ian argued. “The plot, the ‘acting’,” he said, making air-quotes. “Everything about it was cringeworthy and pathetic.”

“It ain’t gonna win an AVN or an Oscar, that’s for sure,” Mickey snorted. “But you were fucking _hot_ in it,” he assured Ian, and he couldn’t help but lick his lips at the memory of Private Gallagher.

Ian’s jaw dropped open a little. “Oh God, you jerked off to it, didn’t you…”

Mickey pressed his lips together, stifling a grin. “Perhaps.”

“Oh God,” Ian repeated, covering his face with his hands.

“You should consider it a compliment…” he told him.

Ian shook his head. “I thought you were a respectable family man. You know, with a wife and a kid! What the hell, man? You’re no better than any other RainBro,” he teased.

“Hey! I didn’t even know about the porn and those perverts until I looked you up, so technically this is all your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ian said. “Sure it is… I bet you love the show! I bet you know all the lyrics to the songs,” he accused.

Mickey shook his head in denial. “Shut up, I do not.”

“Yeah you do! _Fighting crime, one day at a time_ ,” he sang, at the tune of the theme song.

Mickey covered his ears in a show of distaste, but Ian couldn’t be stopped.

 _“At the first sign of upheaval, they're out and stopping evil_ ,” he continued, grinning. Mickey was laughing harder than he’d done in a long time.

“Hey listen, I’m starving, and if I don’t have some coffee soon, I think my head might split open,” Ian told him.

“Alright,” Mickey agreed, trying to hide his disappointment at their banter being cut short.

Instead of saying goodbye, Ian opened his door wider and nodded towards the inside of his gigantic house. “You coming?”

**Author's Note:**

> the next/last chapter will hopefully be done this weekend


End file.
